I’m organising the agenda for our weekly writers’ meeting at our place. As I work out the list of topics I glance out the window. A baby blackkbird, feathers still brownish and fluffy, spies an apple core I’d thrown out a few minutes ago. I know the birds like them.
The baby blackbird’s unsure what to do, hops slowly towards it, down a step or two. It changes direction, goes along the small rock wall, down closer. My wife’s thrown some new tiny pebbly stones close to the wall. They look crisp and clean. The apple core is in the middle of these stones.
The baby chic hesitates, looks around, hesitates, looks around again, hops next to the core, leans forward, jumps back in fright as it lifts the apple core and the tiny pebbles make a crackling noise. It takes one more bite, hesitates, hops back on to the wall. Another older blackbird takes over. The youngster flies off.
Thin sunlight slants across the chilli plants. The older backbird keeps pecking at the apple core.
When is opportunity, opportunity? The right time -later, now?
Our dog wanders back to its food bowl in the hope of discovering more food, though she’s not long been fed. I return to the agenda. Better do it now or I’ll put it off, again.